


Upheaval II - Veracity

by Macx



Series: Seismic [9]
Category: Tremors: The Series
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-12
Updated: 2011-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-19 07:50:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something new and dangerous is lose in the valley and it attacks viciously. When Tyler Reed is nearly caught by it, el Blanco intervenes and pays for it. The creature's poison is about to kill him, so what is Gummer to do but save him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upheaval II - Veracity

Warnings: Graboid ouchies

Burt Gummer sat on the rocky outcropping of the dried out river bed, safely off the ground – safe from Graboids. Well, Graboid. Just one. Singular. El Blanco, the only albino Graboid known to science and sterile. No Shriekers, no Assblasters, just one giant worm to worry about. Not that it made life easier. Lately, El Blanco had even complicated matters.  
Shaded eyes were on the small toy car that he was currently driving over the desert floor. It was one of the souvenirs Jodi sold, the Graboid Hunter model. He had found it among the rubble of his former home when he had first inspected the ruin that had been his bunker and had stored it with all the other things that were still useable. Now he had unburied it from storage and was using the little plastic toy for Graboid studies – together with the ultrasonic watch that he had attached to it.  
The small engine made whirring noises as the toy bounced across the sand. Directly behind it, a small mound moved lazily in its wake, sometimes overtaking it, sometimes moving parallel. Burt watched it all with a kind of strange fascination as he sped up the car and let it race. The mound raced with it.  
El Blanco had been attracted to the noise a few minutes after Burt had parked the truck and unloaded the car. He had come over to the source with his usual speed, only to slow down and start to circle. He hadn't attacked yet, was simply following the motions of the toy, and Burt was secretly amazed at the way the Graboid seemed to play.  
He stopped the car and waited.  
El Blanco stopped, too. A minute later, a tongue slowly came out of the ground, moving almost lazily toward the toy and tasting it. There was a rumbling sound from underground, then the tentacle disappeared again. El Blanco circled the peninsula of rock Burt was sitting on, then settled down. The moment Gummer moved the car, the worm moved, too.  
The game continued for another thirty minutes, then Burt stopped it. He waited for El Blanco's reaction, which was a slight wuffling sound, then the tentacles came again, questing. When he found the toy car wasn't moving, the sound came again, louder this time.  
And Burt waited.  
Finally El Blanco trumpeted and started to move away, giving Burt the chance to pick up the toy. He stowed it in his truck and got in, starting the engine. The seismo monitor informed him that El Blanco was still there, motionless, and only began to follow when the car drove off. He shadowed Burt's movement for a while, even though the truck was moving at the other side of a rocky barrier, then he finally veered off and disappeared.  
Burt thoughtfully gazed at the seismo screen.

* * *

It was one of his regular days out in Perfection Valley. Harlow Winnemucca guided the large bay along the usual path that led to the paddocks farthest away from Rosalita's ranch building, moving easily with the steady gait of his horse. It was still quite early, just past nine in the morning. He had been out and about since the crack of dawn, helping Rosalita with the cattle that needed to be checked on in regular intervals. There was also a fence problem and he wanted to have a look at how badly the old fences needed replacing or if they could survive another season. Money was tight.  
The bay suddenly snorted, dancing nervously and then it stopped, ears moving back and forth like little radar dishes.  
"Hey, what's up?" Harlow murmured, patting the large horses's neck.  
It snorted more, eyes widening.  
It reminded him too much of the behavior of the poor animal he had lost to 4-12 over a year ago. Since then it had been quiet on the monster front, but that didn't mean that there wasn't something out there. Perfection Valley was the melting furnace of all things weird.  
Harlow looked around, trying to spot something that might spook his horse, but there wasn't a sign of either El Blanco, Shriekers, Assblasters or something new and unexplained. Urging the nervous animal on, he rode down an incline, about to cross the dried out little river that only ran through this part of the desert in winter, when he heard it.  
The dry sound of breaking bone, followed by a wet, chewing noise.  
Ah hell.  
The horse whinnied in fear and he just managed to get the dancing animal under control when something not far away from him moved. From the distance it had looked like a rock, but now that rock moved and it gave him the creeps. A bloody snout rose from what had to be one of Rosalita's calves. Small, round ears turned and cat-eyes looked directly at the newcomers. Harlow froze.  
The creature was about the size of a cougar and had the general looks of one, but like all weird creatures he had seen so far, it was hairless. A long tail swished through the air, bloody fangs bared, a growl could be heard.  
The horse whinnied again, almost rearing.  
As if it was the creature's cue, it suddenly darted off into the rocky hills and was gone.  
Harlow sat on the frightened horse, holding the reins tightly, breathing just as hard as his bay.  
"What the…?" he whispered.  
He fumbled for his walkie-talkie.  
"Burt, this is Harlow. You out there?"  
There was a long time of crackling static. At least it seemed like a long time. Then,  
"Burt here. What's up? Over."  
"I'm at the north end of the ranch… you might want to come over here. I think we got a visitor you really don't like, Burt…"

* * *

Burt Gummer knelt next to the mangled remains of the about six months old calf, taking in the bite marks, the slash wounds, and the torn out intestines – of which most had apparently been eaten. He frowned at the depths of the bites. Bones had been shattered and showed deep entry wounds, and there were a lot of drag or scuff marks all over the place. To him, it looked like the calf had been dragged here.  
"You said it looked like a big cat?" he asked.  
Harlow nodded, the normally so unflappable ranch hand looking a bit shaken. "Like a cougar. Just… no fur. And it had some kind of stinger or something on its tail. Looked at me and lit out of here."  
Rosalita, who was standing by her car and had refused to come closer to the dead animal, looked furious. Harlow had called her right after his call to Burt and she had immediately driven over to the paddocks.  
"Not another one of those experiments! I've had it with those!"  
"We don't know what it is, Rosalita," Burt said calmly.  
"Well, it sounds like one of 4-12's buddies!" Anger poured off her. "Why don't you ask Cletus?"  
"Because it would be futile. He said that the scientists working for Proudfoot didn't know of each other's projects. He was only aware of 4-12, nothing else. If this thing escaped from the lab when it was destroyed, it's been around for a long time. It's strange we never saw it before." Burt straightened. "I think it's something new."  
"From a new lab?" she asked, aghast.  
"No one can tell, Rosalita," Burt answered ominously.  
"Mixmaster," Harlow remarked. "It's all over this place, so it might be something accidental."  
"Yes, maybe."  
"I don't care what it is or where it came from," Rosalita snapped, her temper reaching boiling point. "I want that thing dead! I'm not catering to monsters out here. If whatever it is starts decimating my cattle, I can just pack up and leave!"  
Burt placed calming hands on her shoulders. "Tyler and I will look into it, Rosalita."  
"Just kill that thing before it decides we're tasty, too," she muttered.  
Burt gave her a tight smile. "I'm planning to." He turned to Harlow. "We should get that carcass out of here and to the lab. Maybe Dr. Matthews can tell us something about our visitor."  
Harlow nodded. "No problem."

* * *

Dr. Casey Matthews looked at the calf carcass lying on the main table of the lab. It had been brown once, but most of what remained of the fur was now either covered in dust or blood. All in all, there wasn't much left of the poor thing. The creature had apparently chewed for quite a while, stripping off the meat from the back and hind legs, as well as removing the intestines. One front leg was missing completely.  
"From the looks of those marks, it was a large animal," she remarked and straightened from her examination of the most visible bites and tears.  
"Harlow says it looked the size of a mountain lion," Burt told her.  
He had brought the body in on his truck, wrapped in an oilskin. Casey hadn't been surprised to have a visit by Burt Gummer, but his 'present' had come as one.  
"Hm. But it wasn't one."  
That wasn't even a question, but Burt shook his head anyway.  
"I'll take samples. There must be saliva all over this carcass. I'll let you know."  
"Thanks, Casey."  
She smiled. "No problem."  
She watched him leave, then turned back to her newest project. Out here, in Perfection Valley, boredom wasn't easy to come by.

* * *

"New monster?" Tyler asked as he walked from the counter to the table where Burt sat, studying a topographical map of Perfection. He placed a cup of coffee in front of his lover.  
"Looks like it. Dr. Matthews is currently examining the remains of Rosalita's calf. You haven't seen anything unusual on your tour, have you?"  
Tyler shook his head. "Nope. Been out all morning and there was nothing at all, except for a little Graboid activity, much to my passengers' delight." He sat down on the chair and sipped at the coffee. "Now what?"  
Burt looked up and frowned slightly. "I want to go out to where Harlow saw that thing and where the calf was killed. Maybe there're tracks."  
"If it's living above ground."  
"No new seismic activity aside from El Blanco," Gummer immediately told him. "And from the description, I'd say it moves on ground, not under it."  
"Want company?"  
Gummer smiled slightly. "Always appreciated."  
Tyler gave him a wide grin, warmth dancing in his eyes.  
They left twenty minutes later to Jodi's request to be careful. The truck pulled out of Perfection in a cloud of dust and headed for the north end of the Valley.

* * *

Tyler squinted into the sun filled Valley, letting his eyes sweep over the sand and grass and bushes, the occasional tree, and a lot of rocks. There was nothing out here but a few birds, the occasional jackrabbit, as well as insects abuzz in the air. At night the coyotes would come out and hunt, and underground, El Blanco preyed on food from the surface. Right now their resident Graboid was at the other end of the Valley and showed no signs of coming anywhere near them.  
Burt was on his knees, studying tracks and scuff marks, a deep frown on his features.  
"Sweeper activity," he said as he straightened.  
"Already? You've carried the carcass out of here a few hours ago!"  
"Fast working little critters."  
Tyler chuckled. "Yep. They don't let a drop of blood go to waste."  
"I guess they were following the predator, waiting for leftovers," Gummer mused. "There are paw prints, large enough for a mountain lion, with some oddities to them."  
Tyler raised an inquisitive eyebrow.  
"Only three toes and some other things." Burt shrugged, not going into details.  
"So we got no traces of the thing except here, one sighting, a dead calf and…?"  
"That's it."  
"Not much."  
"Enough to warrant increased surveillance of the Valley." Burt started to walk back to the truck, Tyler in tow.  
"I'm free tonight," the younger man said, smiling. "No bookings for the Moonlight tour."  
Burt nodded briskly and got behind the wheel. With that, it was settled. They returned to Perfection to set up plans for the next night.

* * *

The night passed eventlessly and except for some worm activity, there wasn't anything else to report. El Blanco had passed by their positions every time, as if checking what they were doing, and while Burt was annoyed, it couldn't be helped. Tyler just noted it with some amusement, which he tried to hide whenever his lover's eyes fell on him.  
By mid-afternoon of the next day, Casey had called and they went out to the lab. The remains of the calf were gone and the lab looked as crisp and clean as ever. Computers were showing data Tyler had no idea what it meant and except for the hum of the machines, the lab was rather quiet. Roger was still not back and no one else had paid Casey a visit.  
"Well, guys, all I can say is Mixmaster."  
Burt's face clouded and Tyler sighed deeply. "Again?"  
Casey nodded. "Yep, again. There's Mixmaster all over the DNA. I took saliva samples from the dead calf's wounds and it looks like Mixmaster exceeded all estimates once more. Like with the planimal, this one combines two very different groups of life forms. We've got mountain lion and scorpion."  
"Wonderful," Burt muttered.  
"And it's poisonous."  
"What?" Tyler exclaimed.  
"I found two deep stab wounds in the body. Both are the same depth and size, so I swabbed them," she explained. "There's a very strong poison in the blood. The same scorpions use."  
"Great." Gummer tugged unhappily at his cap. "We've got something new and again dangerous out there, and it isn't just a predator, it's also poisonous."  
"Found any trace of it?" Casey inquired.  
"Nope," Tyler answered. "Just lots of tracks, but they disappear in the rocks. No activities last night either. Rosalita's still got all her cattle."  
"Now what?"  
"We bait it," Burt answered, his tone of voice indicating he wouldn't take any arguments.  
"With what? We don't know if it hunts by heat sensor or sound or sight," Tyler argued anyway. "And we've got no way of knowing where it'll strike next."  
"We stay in the area Harlow sighted it first using fresh meat, choose a higher ground to keep the bait in sight, then wait."  
Casey nodded. "Might work."  
Tyler shrugged. "Well, let's hope so."

* * *

For the next two days, there was no sign of the creature. Burt was patrolling around the clock, alternating with Tyler in his shifts, but neither man caught even a tail of the predator. No carcasses were found on any of the paddocks, which wasn't very reassuring. The Sweepers made sure of leaving no traces of any body if they found leftovers, so the new monster might just go hunting and they didn't even realize it had been there.  
Harlow and Rosalita had started to bring the cattle down from the outmost paddocks, closer to the ranch. While it was dangerous to have all cattle in one spot, it also made it easier to protect them. Harlow was now at the ranch 24/7 and both had started to make head-counts of the stock. So far, except for the calf, there were only two more missing and no one could be sure if they had fallen prey to the monster. Maybe they had wandered off, had gotten lost, or El Blanco had snagged them.  
Burt found the latter highly unlikely. The Graboid didn't like the shallow soil surrounding most of the ranchland. He barely even came close to that area.  
On the evening of the fourth day after the kill, Burt once again moved his bait trap and set up camp in the truck, night vision goggles at the ready, the elephant gun primed, and he waited. Tyler was back in Perfection, catching up on some much needed sleep. Aside from having his tours, he had helped out Burt with no complaints whatsoever, but three days of non-stop action had finally led to exhaustion. Burt had told him in no uncertain terms to stay home and get some rest. He would spell him in the morning to take over patrols.  
It was around two in the morning when the motion sensors Burt had planted around the bait chimed and he came alert, pushing back his cap. Gummer slipped on the night vision goggles and scanned the area around the bait.  
Well, well, well, he thought, smiling, as the large shadow came into view. Finally taking some interest in the bait…  
It did look like a freakish version of a mountain lion. Large, slender but powerful, four feet, a tail, and a cat-like head. It moved stealthily, ears turning and checking the area, eyes darting around, but it was approaching the bait.  
Come one, just a little closer.  
Burt noiselessly aimed the elephant gun at the thing, cross-hairs on the shoulder blades. Tyler had called using the big gun overrated, but with the Mixmaster creations, big sometimes wasn't enough. This thing was armored and bullets might not do the trick.  
Suddenly it lifted its head, sniffing.  
Even from where he was, Burt could hear the low growl.  
He didn't hesitate any longer. He pulled the trigger.  
There was a howl of pain, followed by a roar, then the thing started to stagger away, fleeing.  
"I don't believe it!" Burt hissed.  
He had hit it squarely in the shoulder and it was still upright!  
Starting the truck, the head lights coming on fully, he drove over to the spot where the thing had last been before disappearing behind some rocks. Blood glistened in the glaring lights, but there was no sign of his prey.

* * *

"You gave it the full load and it still ran away?" Tyler gaped at his lover in disbelief.  
"It didn't run, it staggered. I wounded it quite severely, but it still managed to flee," Burt answered through clenched teeth.  
Both men were climbing over the rocky face of a steep hill, following clearly visible patches of blood. Both were armed and Burt was keeping a watchful eye out for any kind of movement. His prey had been injured and that made it twice as dangerous.  
"At least it left us a trail," Tyler commented as they arrived on top of the hill.  
"It left us more than that," Burt added and pointed down the other side.  
Not far from them, just at the bottom of an old, weathered tree that had died long ago, lay the body of their predator.  
"You think it's dead?"  
"If not, it'll be soon," Gummer commented.  
Both men approached carefully, guns at the ready, but there was no movement from the thing.  
"Ugly critter," Tyler murmured as he cautiously circled the body.  
There was a lot of blood, on the beast and all around it. The four-legged body lay in a twisted heap and from the looks of it, it had slid down half the hill until the tree had stopped it.  
"We'll take it with us to the lab," Burt decided. "Tyler, stay here with that thing. I'll get the truck and drive around to the bottom of the hill. We'll use blankets to slide it down."  
Tyler nodded his affirmative and Burt gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before he began climbing the hill again.

* * *

Tyler yawned and stretched in the seat of his jeep, his booted feet up on the driver-side door while he was lounging in the passenger seat. It was a clear but also very cold night and while the stars were a nice sight, he would also appreciate a warm bed and his lover close to him. As it was, Burt was with Casey in the lab, helping her with their dead predator. Tyler didn't like hanging around dead bodies a lot and he had chosen some fresh air the moment Casey had started cutting into the creature.  
Really not his thing.  
Someone came down the steps of the lab that looked like a light bulb in the middle of a field of nothing but desert grass and bushes. Tyler glanced at the tall, dark figure.  
"Anything?" he asked.  
"Casey confirmed it's Mixmaster."  
Burt stopped next to the jeep, looking none too happy.  
"Old or new?"  
"No telling just yet. She'll have to run further tests."  
"So, we gonna go home?"  
"Affirmative. There's nothing else to do for now."  
Tyler smiled. "Good. See you at the bunker then?"  
Another nod and a smile. Burt walked over to the truck and soon powerful headlights pierced the night.  
They arrived at the bunker forty minutes later and both parked the cars inside the compound. As the gate rattled closed, Burt descended the steps to the secured door and entered the code. Tyler followed him, tired and glad to be home.  
Burt went over to the surveillance station, briefly checking on El Blanco's status, a normal and almost automatic procedure. Tyler just headed over to the bedroom and stripped off his dusty clothes. He washed off the dirt clinging to his face and neck in the bathroom and padded out into their shared bedroom once more. Burt was already there, boots off, unbuttoning his flannel shirt.  
"You think there's more than one out there?" Tyler asked quietly as he toweled himself off.  
"I don't know."  
"But you expect it."  
The dark eyes gazed seriously at him. "I always expect it."  
Tyler nodded, aware of the situation. He wasn't going to make light of it. Just because 4-12 had been the only one of its kind didn't mean there was only one of the scorpion lions.  
"So, more patrols?"  
A brisk nod. "Until we can be sure, yes.  
"We also have to call Twitchell now that its dead."  
"Tomorrow," Burt decided and started on his pants.  
Both men crawled into bed, Tyler automatically pulling close to Burt, who gave him a little kiss –  
\-- which turned into one very deep and passionate one.  
Tyler smiled, wrapping his arms around the slender waist.  
"Night," he murmured.  
Burt dropped another kiss on his head. "Night."

* * *

"I can't say how old the creature was," Casey told the assembled men and women in the store as Jodi placed coffee and cold drinks in front of them. "I can only estimate its age. I'd say no more than three years. And it's a male."  
"It has a gender?" Rosalita asked, puzzled.  
"Yes, it has. Not everything Mixmaster created or the scientists in the lab cooked up is genderless."  
"So it's a victim of Mixmaster, not some experiment?" Nancy wanted to know.  
Casey nodded, stirring her tea. "I never saw Mixmaster in action or in use. All we saw was the result. Dr. Poffenberger was very vague when he and I talked and I suspect I'll never get a straight answer out of him. My best guess is that the original animal infected with both the second strand of DNA as well as Mixmaster gave birth to what we encountered here – what's in the freezer back at the lab. It could have been a mountain lion eating a scorpion or parts of it. It could have been a scorpion stinging a mountain lion. Who knows? Somehow both DNAs were mixed and merged, creating that thing."  
"Only one?" Burt asked quietly.  
Casey sighed. "I wish I knew. If the original animal was a mountain lion, she gave birth to a litter of cubs. All would have the new mixed gene pool."  
"That means there might or might not be something else crawling around and eating my cattle?" Rosalita exclaimed.  
"Yes, possible."  
"More patrol?" Tyler asked, looking at Burt while playing with his beer.  
Burt nodded curtly. "Yes. All of you have to be extra vigilant right now. As long as we can't be sure that there isn't a second one out there, we've got to be careful."  
"Somehow, I prefer El Blanco every day," Rosalita muttered, face dark.

* * *

The dusty orange tour jeep rattled over the unpaved road deep inside Perfection valley. The sun was already high but it wasn't as warm as it looked. Winter was coming in and in the desert that meant a lot of rain and dropping temperatures, especially at night.  
"Okay, nothing so far," Tyler reported into the walkie-talkie. "I'm at Tableau Point and except for a few rabbits and birds, there's no sign of any monster activity."  
"All right," Burt replied. "Come back and…"  
Tyler didn't listen to the rest of the sentence. His eyes widened and he gave a surprised, 'Oh hell!'  
"Burt!" he called into the walkie-talkie. "Got one!"  
"What?!"  
There, just up ahead on the road that ended a few miles further down in the Valley, stood one of the strange creatures. It looked lighter than the one Burt had shot. A mottled sandy brown, with the same back armour, the long tail with the stinger, and the cat-like head.  
"I found it! It's right up ahead on Tableau Point!"  
"Hold your position, Tyler! Don't engage!" Burt ordered.  
"Hell, you don't have to tell me twice," he muttered. "Roger said," he answered into the walkie-talkie.  
Tyler took the small gun he always carried with him out of the glove compartment and watched the creature, like it was watching him.  
And from one second to the next it dashed towards him.  
"Shit!"  
He raised the gun and fired off several shots, but it didn't slow that thing down for a second. Jumping out of the car, he looked frantically around for cover when it jumped onto the jeep's hood, snarling.  
He fire point-blank, using Burt's advice to aim for the unprotected eyes. It howled in fury and pain, and flung itself off the car, pawing at one bleeding eye.  
Tyler, breathing hard, adrenaline rushing through him, backed away from the jeep and circled, trying to keep an eye on the thing. It hissed and spat, unsure of him all of a sudden, but still aggressive. Baring long, sharp teeth, the stinger tail snapping back and forth, it ducked low on the ground.  
And then the seismo watch started to beep.  
Oh no! Tyler thought. Not him, too!  
He froze on the spot, and it was his mistake.  
The creature jumped.  
Tyler crashed to the ground, crying out in pain as one of the sharp claws of the thing sliced across his left arm. He tried to crawl away, but it was faster –  
\-- only to be stopped by a tentacle whipping toward it. Through pain-blurred eyes Tyler watched in horror and surprise as the ground opened up and the creature was snapped up in El Blanco's jaws. The Graboid reared up, making chewing motions while the thing clawed and bit at every part it could reach. The long tail with its sharp stinger lashed around, catching El Blanco's side and the Graboid howled in pain.  
Tyler tried to move away from the two battling mutations, but by then it was too late. El Blanco's head came down, crushing the hind legs of the creature under it, and it screamed in fury and pain, still clawing at the armored jaws. The ground shook – and gave way.  
Reed had barely a second to register he was falling, then he bounced onto the unforgiving surface underneath.  
He just lay there. Stunned. Winded. Blackness encroaching.  
From somewhere, howls and roars echoed around him.  
Then silence, only broken by soft puffs of air, a rumble.  
Something touched his leg.  
Tyler blinked his eyes open and tried to get his bearings. He lay on the ground, underground… the surface was at least four meters away. It appeared to be some kind of subterranean cavern where the surface had now given way under the weight of El Blanco. Dust motes danced in the rays of sunlight slanting through the opening above.  
A soft whine attracted his attention and he turned his aching head. Again, something touched his foot, brushing over his boot. Heavy, warm and… Tyler blinked.  
Not far from him, actually just two meters away, lay El Blanco. His jaws were slightly parted, he was releasing air in panting breaths, and one tentacle was lying close to Tyler's boot, nudging it now and then.  
Tyler jerked away, regretting the sudden movement as pain exploded in his abused body. His left arm hurt like blazes from where the creature had cut him and the fall hadn't been too kind either. He was bleeding from the long gash on his arm, his jacket sleeve was torn and by now saturated in blood.  
Falling back against the earthen wall, he curled his arm protectively against his body, the right covering it. His tearing eyes never left El Blanco, who seemed to lie in what had to be a tunnel leading to this exit point.  
A Graboid tunnel.  
Shit.  
Another whine and the tentacle twitched slightly.  
Tyler shivered at the thought of how close he was to getting eaten. Then again, if El Blanco really did want him as a snack, why not devour him now? Or was Casey's theory still firm? Had he adopted the people in Perfection as a kind of surrogate family?  
The Graboid moved his head a little, the body rippling. That was when he saw the ugly, long slash wound at the side of the head, just behind the armored jaws, oozing orange blood.  
Another whine, followed by a gurgling puff of air.  
"He gotcha good, hm?" Tyler whispered.  
The tentacle moved toward him, brushing over his knee, and he tried not to jerk away. Not that he had much room, actually. Behind him was a wall of packed earth; in front of him was a Graboid.  
"I'm no doctor," Tyler went on, voice shaky. "I've got no idea what to do. But lemme tell you, I'm real thankful for you eating that thing. Maybe you did it for me, which is crazy. Maybe you ate it because you were hungry, which is a lot better explanation, hm?"  
Okay, so he was talking to a Graboid. Not that he hadn't done it before…  
He had even touched El Blanco before. Back when Frank and Dolores had stunned him with that sound gun, had tried to cut him open… Tyler had spent some time back to belly with the huge creature, feeling the uneven breathing, the powerful thunder of his heart, and he had felt the warmth. He had touched the rough skin, had been next to the armored head, and he had tried to save El Blanco's life, stalling for time against an armed madman from Vegas.  
And back then, El Blanco had saved his life, too. He had unexpectedly reared up and caught Dolores, who had been intent on shooting Tyler and his hostage. She had ended up as worm food and the moment those powerful and dangerous jaws had closed, El Blanco had become strangely docile once more. As if he had been briefly conscious… just to save his life?  
An unexpected pain sliced thought his arm and Tyler curled up a little, clenching his teeth. A hiss escaped his lips as the pain spiked, then abated. Falling limply back against the wall, he just now noticed the tentacle head resting on his jeans-clad calf. The small mouth was closed, no hissing sounds could be heard.  
It just lay there.  
Tyler tried to get his breathing under control, the pants slowly growing less. He was confused, he was in pain, and he was looking at an injured Graboid in its very own tunnel.  
Resting his head against the cool earth, he wondered what to do now.  
You're the first human being to set foot into a Graboid tunnel. The first live human, that is.  
Great. So what?  
El Blanco's tongue started to wrap lightly around his calf and Tyler tensed.  
"I'm not real tasty," he whispered. "All skin and bones and stringy meat."  
The tentacle squeezed firmly but not too hard. El Blanco whined softly and a deep rattling sound followed. Tyler gazed at the large animal, the sightless creature, just a few feet away from him. Graboids were fascinating, but highly dangerous, and while he could think of El Blanco as part of their 'family', he was also a predator.  
A predator that currently had him quite firmly by one leg.  
The deep rattle grew into something even deeper, almost subsonic, and he felt it in his bones. Tyler reached for the tentacle with his good hand and touched it, feeling the sound more than hearing it now. The other two tongues were lolling out of the sharp, armored jaws and ripples passed through the powerful body.  
"We're in this together, hm? Well, I hope we get out of it, too."

* * *

Burt had pushed the truck to the limit, almost recklessly driving it over the uneven ground toward the last known position of his partner, the GPS confirming that the jeep was still where Tyler had last made a call.  
A call that had included the surprised exclamation that one of those things was still out there.  
"Tyler, can you hear me, over!" he called into the CB over and over again.  
No reply.  
A sick feeling of fear curled in his stomach and he tried not to think about what he might find. That El Blanco was in the vicinity didn't help either.  
The truck lumbered up the steep road to Tableau Point and Burt hit the brakes as the orange tour jeep came into view. He grabbed his gun, then carefully checked both the seismo monitor and the area.  
No Graboid movement.  
No Tyler.  
He stopped and a cold shiver raced down his back.  
Only a few meters away from the jeep was a large hole in the ground and next to it lay what looked like one of the creatures.  
Burt carefully exited his truck, gun out, body tense. He approached the jeep; no sign of Tyler. The creature next to it was dead, the hind legs crushed under a great force, the spine twisted, and with huge tears in the armored back and sides. Blood had pooled around it. It was coated in what looked like saliva.  
"Tyler, this is Burt. Come in, please," Burt spoke into the walkie-talkie, eyes sweeping the area. "Tyler, where are you?"  
Suddenly there was a rumbling, rattling sound from out of the hole and Burt jumped back like bitten.  
Graboid! shot through his head. Graboid hole!  
"Burt?" a weak voice came from the walkie-talkie.  
"Tyler!" he exclaimed. "Where are you?"  
"Underground. Fell through into the hole."  
Burt's eyes widened and he stared at the opening in the ground. Another rattle could be heard. It sounded very much like El Blanco.  
"Oh, and El Blanco's down here, too."  
"What?!"  
"He's hurt. I'm fine, don't worry. We're just keeping each other company." Tyler's voice sounded faint and Burt didn't like it one bit.  
"Are you injured?"  
"That thing got me on the arm and I'm a bit shaken up, but otherwise I'm fine. I'd appreciate a little help getting out, though."  
Gummer twitched a little smile, then he grew serious again. He had to get his lover out of there – away from El Blanco, out of that cavern.

Burt found a harness in the back of his truck, fastened it to the hook of the cable on the winch and secured the car.  
"Tyler?" he called.  
"Here," came the not very strong reply.  
"I'm going to lower a harness. Get in it, then I'll pull you up!"  
"Roger that."  
Burt didn't like the tremor to his lover's voice, nor the weakness. He knew the creature had been poisonous and it had injured Tyler. He chased the thoughts away, concentrating only on the rescue mission.

Tyler smiled faintly as he discovered the harness on the cable being lowered into the cavern. Using his last reserves of strength he grabbed it and pulled it over to him, then fell back against the wall. The pain in his arm was making him dizzy. It was like a persistent toothache, throbbing and pulsing, and it seemed to radiate up into his shoulder and down to his fingers. He couldn't move a muscle.  
El Blanco still lay where he had been since Tyler had come around, the single tentacle outstretched toward him, now a limp extension of the Graboid who was obviously not in a good shape. He puffed some air and Tyler smiled thinly.  
"You and me both, pal," he murmured, then started the slow and painful task of getting on the harness.  
"Tyler?" Burt shouted.  
"Coming," he whispered, almost falling over and so glad that the rope was holding tight.  
"Tyler!"  
"Ready."  
"I'm going to pull you up now!"  
"Okay."  
He didn't know if he was loud enough to be heard, but the motor of the winch started and slowly, very slowly, he was lifted.  
His head felt funny, he was drowsy, and halfway up the cavern Tyler had the feeling of falling and flying all in one.  
Hands grabbed him, pulled him onto safe ground, and he tried to take his own weight, but his knees collapsed. A voice was asking frantic questions, insisting he answer, but he didn't understand either the question or the actual words. His arm was pulsing badly now, like an abscessed tooth, and he felt nauseous.  
"Burt," he rasped. "What about El Blanco? We gotta help him!"  
His voice slurred badly and he was losing grasp of reality.  
"Can't leave him," he murmured. "Can't."  
And then his eyes just slid shut and he let himself slide into the darkness.

* * *

Burt didn't know what was worse: having Tyler break down in his arms, bleeding, or the drive to the lab where Casey Matthews was already waiting for them. Then again, sitting on one of the lab stools, watching the research geneticist treating his lover's wound might be worse than the prior choices.  
Tyler had suffered a long, nasty gash on his left forearm, extending from just above the wrist to almost to the elbow. It wasn't too deep, but it had bled a lot and Casey was currently cleaning it with antiseptics.  
"I don't think it needs to be stitched," she said. "I took some first aid courses in my time," she added at his quizzical look. "Being a field researcher warrants some knowledge in first aid. Sometimes you can't get a doctor out to the places where you are."  
She straightened and looked down at their unconscious patient.  
"I'm not sure how much poison got into his system until the results from the blood tests are confirmed, but I've got the right antidote for him here. After you guys killed that first creature I processed a batch of it just in case."  
"Good thinking."  
She nodded. "Out here, always be prepared. And monsters not always come in singles."  
Burt smiled grimly. "Ain't that the truth."  
His eyes strayed to his partner again and Casey's expression grew soft. "You can stay at the trailer tonight. Roger's not here for another day or so, and even if he comes back, he and I can bunk in one together."  
"Thanks," he murmured.  
"Let me just check if everything okay. I'll make up the bed and then we can carry him over."  
Burt nodded and she left. He sat down next to his lover and touched the stubbled face. There was a little twitch.  
"Tyler?" he coaxed, stroking over the skin.  
Another twitch and a flutter of eyelids. Clouded gray eyes appeared and Burt grasped the limp, right hand.  
"Tyler?"  
"Burt?" came the dry, weak whisper.  
"Yeah. You're out of that hole, you're safe."  
"Safe," Tyler echoed.  
"Yes. Sleep."  
Tyler followed the gentle command and was asleep seconds later. Burt carried him over to the trailer where Casey was just coming out. She was carrying old sheets and nodded at him.  
"I changed the bed sheets."  
"Thanks. He was awake for a few seconds."  
"Good. Roger has some soup in the cupboard and you can use the kitchen. He should drink something if you can make him, eat if he's hungry. I'll be over at the lab to see if I can find something out about the poison. I might have to take some more blood samples later on."  
Burt nodded and entered the trailer with his precious cargo, then laid Tyler down on the freshly made bed. Stripping off the clothes, the finally got him settled.  
And he sat down and waited.

* * *

Burt watched Tyler as he lay on the bed in the rear of the trailer, bathed in sweat but looking better than when he had found him. The arm was heavily bandaged and Casey had said to check the wound every two hours. She was currently still in the lab, running the numbers on the results she had gotten from the poison, the blood and the antidote.  
Brushing over the damp hair, Burt tried to relax a little. He was coiled and ready to spring into action, every muscle tense and wired, and his mind felt numb. A soft moan alerted him to his lover waking. Blurry, gray eyes blinked open and Burt managed a smile.  
"Hey."  
Tyler's lips twitched. "Hey," he rasped.  
"Thirsty?"  
A nod.  
Burt took the glass of water on the bedside table and held Tyler's head as he let him sip. Tyler's eyes slid shut and fine lines of pain appeared again. Burt settled him down once more, wiping off the sweat.  
"How do you feel, Tyler?"  
"Like hell," came the faint reply and the feverish eyes opened once more.  
"Casey gave you an antidote that should fight the poison," Burt explained, catching one weakly twitching hand, holding it.  
"Oh."  
"Get some sleep, Tyler."  
Tired eyes closed and soon Tyler was asleep once more. Burt stayed with him a while longer, then walked over to the lab where Casey was working on her laptop.  
"How is he?" she asked.  
"Woke, had some water, sleeping again now," he reported. "Fever's going down."  
She nodded. "Good. The antivenom's working. Get some sleep, Burt."  
He didn't answer, just left again, eyes on the darkness around him. It was a cool night, refreshing, but nothing about it helped relax his tension.  
Finally he went back into the trailer home to sit at his lover's side and wait.

* * *

Burt woke in a cramped position on the chair he had fallen asleep in, feeling all muscles protest as he straightened his tall frame.  
I'm getting too old for that, he sighed silently, rubbing a hand over is face. His eyes strayed to the bed and he jumped up, all aches and tiredness forgotten.  
"Tyler?"  
"Here," came a soft but firm voice and Burt whirled around, wide eyes taking in the half-naked form of his lover.  
Tyler had obviously been to the bathroom, and he had taken a shower, damnit! His hair was damp, his chest still showing droplets of water, and the towel was slung around his hips.  
"Damnit!" Gummer exploded.  
Tyler gave him a puzzled look. "Burt?"  
"What are you doing up?"  
"I… I felt better and I just wanted to wash off the sweat and all…" Tyler trailed off. "I'm fine," he added. "Really."  
Burt stared hard at him, taking in the still lingering signs of the pain his lover had been in, but Tyler was steady on his feet, he seemed alert, and he hadn't fallen over in the shower. Bonus points.  
"Should have woken me," he grumbled.  
"You looked out of it. I thought you could use a few more minutes." Tyler smiled apologetically.  
Burt's eyes fell on the bandage.  
"I kept it dry, don't worry."  
He grunted something and closed the distance, still visually examining his lover, then pulled him into a hug.  
"I'm glad you're okay," he whispered into one ear, then kissed him softly.  
Tyler smiled into the kiss and wrapped his good arm around Burt.  
There was a knock on the door and the two men parted reluctantly just as Casey stuck her head in.  
"Good morning. Just coming over to check…" She smiled widely as she discovered Tyler up on his own two feet. "Hey, Tyler. How're you?"  
"Fine. Bit tired, but altogether, really good."  
She nodded, stepping into the room. "I ran a check on my results and you mirror them. The poison's not lethal on humans. It induces pain as the body tries to break it down and fight it. The antivenom helped with that. You should be completely fine within a day or two. If you were an animal, you wouldn't have been so lucky. That poison is specifically for the creature's prey and humans don't range in that category."  
"Thank god," Burt murmured, relief spreading through him.  
"I'll drive out to get the carcass of the dead one later on. I want to have a look at it."  
Burt nodded his agreement. "I'll come with you. I'll just drop Tyler off at…"  
"Hey!" Tyler called, drawing their attention to him. "I'm still here and I'm not going anywhere."  
"Yes, you are. You need rest," Burt shot back, annoyed.  
"I'm fine and I can get rest later. What about El Blanco? Is he okay?" At their blank looks he added, "He was hurt by that thing. He was bleeding and he didn't really look his old self down there in that tunnel."  
"I'm sure he's fine," Burt started.  
"Do you know that for a fact?" his lover interrupted him.  
"No, but he's an animal…"  
"That got poisoned and Casey just said that the poison works even worse on them."  
Tyler's expression was set and it would have been comical – him clad in just a towel – if the situation hadn't been so serious.  
"Tyler…"  
"Burt, that Graboid is in pain! If the poison felt like this to me, he's in his own private hell!"  
"And you want to do what? Give him an injection?" Burt asked.  
Tyler nodded, pale face determined.  
"What? Are you crazy?"  
"No. But I won't let him suffer like this. Burt, he saved my life!"  
Gummer clenched his jaw and his eyes tightened. He didn't like it, but neither did Tyler like El Blanco in pain. And Burt had to confess that he didn't want their resident Graboid to suffer either. Not after everything that had happened lately. He was just starting to adapt to the idea of El Blanco seeing some kind of surrogate pack in them.  
"Burt, please! We can help him!"  
"And we can get eaten!"  
"He didn't eat me when he had the chance and you know what Casey said about the pack mentality."  
"She could be wrong!"  
Tyler threw up his hands in frustration, then winced at the pain. "So far she hasn't been. If you won't help me, I'll do it alone!"  
Casey had been silent throughout the whole discussion, letting the two men hash it out for themselves, but now she spoke up for the first time.  
"Tyler's right, Burt. El Blanco could have just crawled somewhere else to suffer the pain he was probably in, but he stayed with Tyler, and I'm reasonable sure he is in pain. That's one strong poison…"  
Burt glared silently at them and Tyler started to collect his clothes.  
"Doc? Can you give me a run-down of how to treat that wound."  
Casey nodded grimly. "Sure. Do you one better, I'll come with you."  
"All right!" Burt snapped. "I'm coming, too! This is ridiculous, but someone has to watch your back."  
Tyler smiled widely. "Thanks, partner. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get dressed…?"  
That was directed at Casey, who grinned and nodded.  
"See you at the lab."  
Burt waited until the trailer door was closed again, then turned to the younger man. "Want me to leave, too?"  
"Nah. It's not like you haven't seen it many times before…"  
Gummer sighed, but he did run an appreciative eye over the slender, muscular form. Part of him was too worried for more, though. What Tyler had planned was crazy, completely nuts, but if El Blanco was truly hurt, they had to do something. He wouldn't let some Mixmaster creation kill their Graboid off.

* * *

Tyler looked a bit pale by the time they arrived at Tableau Point and Burt suspected all the bouncing of the car over the uneven road hadn't been very healthy on his lover's injury. But he didn't complain, just climb out of the car and walk over to the Graboid hole.  
Shaking his head, Gummer followed. Tyler was a resilient man, nothing kept him down for long, and despite the pain and the exhaustion, he was still energetic enough.  
"He's still down there," Tyler announced.  
As if to agree with his statement, there was a low rumbling whine from below. The fact alone that El Blanco hadn't moved from his original position told Burt more than anything how bad the Graboid had to be off. He had seen his lover's pain and if animals reacted all the more strongly, he didn't want to imagine what the worm was feeling.  
Grabbing the harness, he prepared the winch and the cable. A second car came up and parked next to them while he was doing so. Casey got out, carrying the necessary tools for the whole operation. Tyler smiled at her and both went through the procedure once more.  
"Clean it out first. Thoroughly. The poison's already in his system, but the wound will most likely be infected," Burt heard her tell Tyler. "Staple it with this. The staples dissolve after a while, so there's no danger of him ripping them out as he travels." She pushed a special device into his hands and he looked it over. "Afterwards, give him the shot. Should there be any problem with the prior procedures, just give him the shot and get out of there. Everything will be painful for him and I just hope he's out of it enough not to give you any trouble."  
Tyler shrugged and put everything into a backpack. "Hope so, too."  
Burt helped his lover into the harness, serious eyes holding expressive gray ones, reading only determination in there.  
"Be careful," Burt said softly.  
"Will be. Don't worry."  
Tyler tested the harness around his body and then nodded at Burt. "Okay, ready."  
Burt's eyes reflected his misgivings.  
"Burt, I'm going to do this," Reed said firmly.  
Gummer nodded, then pulled him into a little kiss. Tyler was startled by the action since Casey was present, but he went with the flow, responding warmly.  
"I'll be fine, Burt," he whispered, then pulled back.  
Casey gave him an encouraging smile. "Good luck."  
And then he was on his way down the Graboid hole.

El Blanco lay where he had last left him. The Graboid looked bad to his eyes. Two tongues were lolling partially out of his jaws, the third invisible. Maybe pulled inside. The wound had stopped bleeding, but it had coated the blanched hide with an ugly, orange crust. As Tyler jumped the last few inches to the ground, El Blanco rumbled softly, one tongue twitching.  
"Hey, it's me," Tyler said softly. "Don't worry. I'm not going to harm you."  
The tongue twitched again, trying to move toward him. It looked strangely dry, compared to the slime that had covered it when he had been poisoned before.  
Tyler unfastened the cable from the harness and carefully approached the large animal, still talking.  
"I've got something to help you. It helped me, y'know. It's just a little shot. I'll have to clean that cut, though. Might hurt a bit, okay?"  
He inched carefully closer, his ankle now right next to the tentacle, which moved feebly. If Casey's theory was correct, if Graboids touched each other, maybe he should…  
Tyler knelt down and hesitantly touched the dry and warm tongue. El Blanco suddenly snorted, rumbling more.  
"Recognize me?" he murmured. "Good. Now just let me work on that wound and you'll be cruising the desert in no time."  
Tyler slowly walked past the heavy, dangerous jaws, one hand automatically touching the armor plates. They felt strangely warm and smooth, with a few scar-like scratches. Except for the wound and the fact that the Graboid was very much aware of him, it was eerily close to the situation from months ago…  
"I'm not here to harm you," he mumbled. "Just stay calm."  
The gash looked really ugly up close and it was jagged and wide. He would have to close the wound and it might be a bit more than he had bargained for.  
The walkie-talkie crackled. "Tyler?"  
"Yeah, Burt, I read you. Over."  
"What's going on down there?"  
Tyler smiled. "Me and El Blanco just got reacquainted. I'm looking at the wound now. It's a bad one, but it stopped bleeding."  
"Tyler. Casey here. Try to clean it, but don't risk too much."  
"Don't worry. I'll be fine."  
He clicked off the walkie-talkie and looked at the injury.  
"Okay, here we go."  
Casey had packed him an antiseptic solution, as well as a lot of towels. He liberally doused one of the towels and began to carefully clean the wound. At first there was just a low rumble from El Blanco, but from one second to the next he screamed, flinching away from Tyler's ministrations. Reed had no time to react to the tentacle lashing out toward him and he was caught around the mid-section and flung against the wall. With a cry of pain and a gasp he collapsed to his knees, aware of the snapping, hissing mouth close to his face. He instinctively raised an arm to protect himself and the tentacle wound tightly around it.  
"Tyler! Tyler, damnit! Answer me!"  
Burt's voice squawked out of the walkie-talkie that lay not far away, but he couldn't reach it.  
"It's okay," Tyler whispered, voice shaky. "It's okay. I didn't do it on purpose."  
And he touched the tongue holding his arm, wrapping his fingers around the powerful muscles. It didn't hold him hard enough to break the bone, but it was starting to get uncomfortable.  
El Blanco whined softly, then began to rumble again. His head moved from side to side and he seemed to be drawn between trying to get away and staying.  
"We've got to clean the wound," Tyler continued talking. "It'll hurt, but you'll feel better."  
There was a loud noise from behind and Tyler twisted his head, relief and surprise spreading through him at the appearance of Burt Gummer. His lover was armed, ready to shoot should El Blanco make a wrong move.  
"No!" Tyler called. "It's okay. Don't shoot him. Burt, it's okay. He was just startled."  
Burt's lips were a tight line, but he left his gun at his side. El Blanco's second tongue suddenly snaked toward the newcomer, moving weakly.  
"Touch him, Burt," Tyler begged. "He needs to know it's you."  
"Tyler… I don't think that's a good idea."  
"Burt, please!"  
The tongue rose a little, quivering, and Burt reached out. The small head didn't hiss at him, the mouth remained closed, and when Gummer touched the versatile muscle, El Blanco gave a soft rumbled, wrapping the tentacle around his alpha's lower arm. Tyler was freed and he shakily climbed to his feet.  
"Are you okay?" Burt demanded, standing rigid, not moving a muscle.  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just shook up a little." Tyler shot him a smile. "He might be calmer now you're here."  
"You're not going to continue this!"  
"Of course. It's what we're here for, right?"  
Tyler determinedly walked over to the wound and took a fresh towel, repeating the procedure.

Burt watched his lover with a mixture of despair and pride. Tyler seemed so sure about this, so completely convinced, and the way El Blanco just lay there, holding on to Burt with one tongue, was almost docile. Now and then there was a soft puff of air, followed by a rumbling sound.  
The moment Tyler applied the towel again, El Blanco whined, jerking slightly, but he didn't lash out. Burt placed his second hand over the warm, heavy weight on his other arm, and the Graboid settled down.  
As if he knew.  
As if he was reassured by the alpha's presence.  
Tyler worked quickly, cleaning away most of the blood from the actual gash, then using Casey's special stapler. El Blanco hissed and rumbled more, but he stayed. In the end Reed emptied the large syringe into the Graboid's system.  
"Done," he called.  
Burt nodded briskly, eyes never leaving the creature. Tyler joined him, almost automatically rubbing over the tongue still wrapped around Burt's forearm. As if that had been the signal, El Blanco let go and huffed briefly.  
"See?" Tyler grinned. "No biggie."  
He walked back to Burt who was just able to refrain himself from grabbing the younger man into his arms and pulling him away. So he just put a hand on his left shoulder and squeezed slightly.  
"Let's go," he said softly.  
El Blanco didn't stop them from ascending the walls once more. The moment Tyler was on the surface, he stumbled to lean against the truck, closing his eyes and biting his lower lip. Worry lanced through Burt and he stopped in front of the younger man who was cradling his left arm, looking pale.  
"Tyler?"  
"Just a spasm," was the rough answer.  
Casey walked over to them, the same worry on her features that Burt felt.  
"Let me see," she demanded and Tyler obediently let her have a look at the bandaged wound.  
Casey swiftly unwrapped the bandage and checked the scratch, then nodded.  
"You didn't open it again, but you need to keep that arm still."  
Tyler closed his eyes, clearly tired. Being banged around by El Blanco in his condition hadn't helped.  
"Let's go," Burt decided.  
Reed's eyes snapped open. "We can't just leave!" he protested. "We don't know if this helps!"  
"You want to stay?"  
"Yeah, sure. I mean, someone's gotta keep an eye on him, Burt!"  
Gummer glowered at the younger man, but he was no match against the determination radiating from Tyler Reed. Casey looked thoughtfully at him, as if she had come to the same conclusion.  
"He's right," she then confirmed Burt's suspicion. "He's vulnerable at the moment. The antivenom will take a while to clear the poison from his system."  
Burt shot her a nasty look, then turned his eyes on the battered form of his lover. "You're in no condition to spend the night in the desert."  
"I'm fine, Burt. We've got the tent, sleeping bags, and I bet you got some MREs…" He smiled winningly. "It'll be fun."  
Burt rolled his eyes. Fun! Only Tyler could call camping around a Graboid hole with a sick worm in it fun!  
"All right!" he finally growled. "We'll stay."  
Casey smiled. "Good. I'll get back to the lab then. Call me if something happens."  
And with that she was off. Burt shot another dark look at Tyler, which was countered by a wide, innocent smile.  
Tyler Reed.  
His lover.  
The most exasperating, infuriating and irritating man he had ever met…. And damn, if he didn't love him.  
"Let's set up the tent," he muttered. "On the back of the truck," he added. "I won't sleep on the ground with a Graboid right next to me! You," he stabbed at Tyler with one finger, "take it easy on that arm."  
"Yes, sir," Tyler chuckled and stiffly pushed away from the truck, eyes alight.  
Burt just shook his head. "Why do I bother?" he muttered to himself.

* * *

Dusk fell quickly and Tyler had gotten a fire going. Both men sat in front of the truck, eating MREs, listening to the soft rumbling from underground. El Blanco had been almost too quiet the whole time and only the murmuring now and then gave them an idea of their Graboid. He was still alive.  
"Think we should go down there again?" Tyler asked as they cleared the leftovers away.  
Burt shot him an incredulous look. "No!" he then said decisively.  
A shrug. "Okay."  
His eyes lingered on the hole, then Tyler rose, still cradling his arm. Burt watched him with a frown, then he followed his lover into the tent.  
Stripping off his boots and jacket, Tyler crawled into the sleeping bag. It would be a cold night and they kept their other clothes on. Burt did the same and slid in beside the younger man. Tyler almost automatically came closer and Gummer just accommodated him as Tyler settled with a soft sigh, his injured arm laying across Burt's chest.  
Wordlessly, they lay together, Burt's arm around the slender form of his lover. Tyler drifted off after some time, his breathing rhythm changing into a regular, deep pattern. Burt was awake a lot longer, listening to the noises of their injured Graboid, just like he was listening to the sounds of his lover.  
Finally, he dropped off, too.

* * *

El Blanco was gone the next morning. Tyler gazed down into the cavern, a silly little smile playing around his lips, his left arm cradled against his body. Burt was at his side, a satisfied expression on his features.  
"Let's go," he finally said, one hand squeezing Tyler's right shoulder gently.  
He still looked pale and exhausted, and Burt planned to get him to rest some more the moment they were home. His home; the bunker.  
"Hope he's okay," Tyler murmured.  
"I'll check the seismo monitors later," Gummer promised. "Now get in."  
"Getting in, sir."  
He glowered at the grinning man, unable to maintain the glare for long. A smile twitched at his lips.

Tyler slept a lot in the following twenty-four hours. Casey had checked the wound again and was pleased with the looks of it, then had told Burt to get Tyler to rest. Actually, that hadn't been such a great problem since his younger lover fell into bed voluntarily, looking beat despite the night of sleep before. And it was just past noon.  
Burt spent the day at the bunker, going over old logs, keeping an eye on El Blanco, who wasn't moving much but at least he was moving, and he talked to the women in town, reassuring them that everything was fine.  
Tyler woke around six, took a shower, came out for food, and they watched some TV before he started to doze off again around nine. After half an hour of protests and arguing, he finally let Burt get him back into bed.  
Gummer joined him some hours later, slipping between the sheets. Tyler was out like a light, deeply asleep, and dead to the world. Burt smiled as he watched him, dressed in an old t-shirt and boxers, hair mussed, stubbled cheeks still a bit too pale, and the left arm bandaged. He dropped a kiss on the unshaven skin and killed the lights.

* * *

They both dropped by the lab the next afternoon, despite Burt's argument that Tyler should grant himself more time off. He might be healing, but his body required rest. Tyler wouldn't hear anything of it. Nancy, Rosalita and Jodi had inquired how he was feeling when they had first gone down to Perfection for some hot lunch, but Tyler waved off their doting. He was fine.  
Burt grimaced. Right.  
Tyler still took painkillers to keep the infection staved off and the pain in check. He was dozing or sleeping more than anything else, but at least his color had improved.  
"Burt, I'm okay," the younger man now said as they parked outside the lab and Burt shot him another look. "Really. Just tired."  
"You were poisoned, Tyler," Burt restarted the old argument. "Two days ago!"  
"And the poison knocked me out for a day. I'm okay." Tyler slid out of the truck and started to walk toward the lab.  
Burt shook his head, exasperated. "Tyler," he growled.  
His lover stopped and turned, shooting him one of those incorrigible smiles. "Burt?"  
He gave him a dark look, then tugged his cap down firmly on his head. "Let's go," he just muttered and entered the lab.

"Hey, guys," Casey greeted them when the two men came in. "Tyler, you look good."  
Reed shot Burt a pointed 'Told ya' look and the older man ignored it.  
"How's your research going?" Tyler wanted to know.  
"Good, actually. I finished with the other specimen just an hour ago and it's fascinating."  
"Out here, that's not good," Burt commented.  
"Well, yes and no." She sat down and swiveled the chair to face them. "You know how I told you that the thing you shot was a male, Burt?"  
A sharp nod, coupled with a wary look.  
"This one's female."  
Tyler whistled softly.  
"And she recently had kittens. Or cubs. Or whatever you might want to call them. Her blood is saturated with hormones and the uterus showed it quite clearly, too."  
"How long ago?" Burt demanded.  
"I can't tell, Burt, sorry."  
"So there might be more of them out there?" Tyler wanted to know.  
"Maybe, maybe not. If she recently had a litter, they might not survive for very long without their mother."  
"Let's hope," Gummer muttered darkly.  
"And there's one more thing." Casey held up a vial with a watery orange liquid in it. "That's blood from El Blanco. I took it off the towels Tyler used to clean the wound."  
"Why?" Reed asked, puzzled.  
"Well, we've never been able to get a blood sample from the scientifically most interesting of all Graboids, the only albino, the only sterile one. Now was that chance. People are interested in anything that is unusual in nature. From ancient times, we've had a fascination with these animals whose only difference is their white coloring. In India, the white tiger and white elephant were considered sacred animals. In Europe, legends are told about white deer. Many geographical locations have taken their names from animals of white coloring such as White Fox, White Wolf and White Moose in North America."  
Burt shot her a long-suffering look and Casey smiled apologetically.  
"Sorry. I won't bore you with the science of albinism…"  
"Thank you," Burt muttered.  
"…but," she continued, smiling tolerantly, "it's a scientific fact that it needs two pairs of parents, not just one, to yield such a result. The term 'albinism' encompasses a wide range of traits, all of which result from problems with pigment production or distribution. None of them include sterility."  
"Uh, doc…." Tyler piped up, "El Blanco's sterile. That's a fact. I mean, he hasn't turned into Shriekers… that's a first hint."  
"Yes, he's sterile, but it doesn't come from albinism. Now, it's a fact that the trait of an albino is passed on by the parents. Note the plural. One or both carry the genetic defect in them and the offspring either turn out to be simple carriers or they develop the defects actively. El Blanco is an active one."  
"But Graboids don't have parents," Tyler mused.  
Casey nodded. "Exactly. That's my point. He couldn't have developed a genetic defect throughout reproduction because Graboids morph into Shriekers without mating, and they finally turn into Assblasters, which carry the egg. Up until today we don't even know if the egg will hatch a new Graboid or not since we never found a matured, undamaged one. A Graboid's multiple Shriekers grow like tumors inside its body until it dies, devoured from within by its offspring. Strictly speaking, Shriekers are not a divided, metamorphosed form of the original Graboid. Rather, they are offspring, a larval form of new Graboids birthed by the parent. Not it evolutionary next step."  
Tyler frowned. "So they're just like the parent Graboid?"  
"Strangely enough, no. Currently we think of the Shriekers as offspring, but others have theorized that maybe the Shriekers are parasites that mature inside the Graboid, adopting genetic traits, then leave their host."  
Burt grimaced and Casey shrugged.  
"Scientists have found that the DNA inside the Shriekers differ from the parent Graboid – enough to secure a healthy breeding stock if they are truly of the same family and no degeneration. Which brings us back to the albino. Without outside influence, the defects couldn't occur, but El Blanco carries a faulty genome."  
"Outside…? Do I dare ask?” Burt queried carefully, his face showing reluctance to know the answer.  
“Probably not. It’s Mixmaster.”  
“What?!” Burt exploded. “You’re not telling me that that worm out there is a Mixmaster creation? From that lab?!”  
Tyler placed a calming hand on his arm and he sank back on the table he had been leaning against.  
“Yes, he is. And no, not from that lab. Graboid eggs are all over the world, hidden underground, and several were here in Perfection where the secret lab has been. When Mixmaster leaked, I suspect it soaked through the ancient egg, changing the fetus inside. When the egg started to develop, an albino hatched. That he was sterile on top of it was a side-effect. He could just as well have been fertile like the others. And… “  
“God, don’t tell me there’s more?” Gummer groaned.  
“Actually, there is. See, we’ve seen El Blanco act in a weird way lately. Fact is, he always did, we just haven’t noticed. El Blanco presumably has far more advanced senses – he can tell the difference between our voices, he can sense them, he can sense vibrations on a far more subtle frequency than others of his species. Say, when you told me about that watch of yours, he was the only one reacting to it, right?”  
Burt nodded slowly. He got the indistinct feeling he was in for another revelation about their local Graboid.  
"And the first time he chose to come to your bunker, there were still others alive?"  
Another nod.  
"Which proves he was the only one who could hear it. The Graboid that swallowed you reacted to sound vibrations from a beeper when he passed close by your group. El Blanco was the only one who followed the ultrasonic signal. He’s a mutation, just like the shrimp was. But unlike that shrimp, no latent ancient genome was triggered.”  
“But?”  
“He’s a mutated form of Graboids. The whiteness might be the outside appearance of the new kind of Graboid that cannot morph at all.”  
“Whoa,” Tyler cut in, “just a sec. He’s no common Graboid? All the sticking to Burt and us, all the checking out stuff…?”  
Casey nodded seriously. “Correct. El Blanco is far more intelligent than the common Graboid, his senses are more finely tuned, which includes his sense of family. I doubt that even if other Graboids could never change into Shriekers that they would adopt humans as their pack. El Blanco is unique in more ways than one."  
“Wonderful.”  
Burt looked none too happy and neither did Tyler.  
"So if he could reproduce," Casey finished, "we might be looking at a completely new set of Shriekers and Assblasters."  
"Guess that means more scientists flocking in?" Reed asked.  
Casey shrugged. "I'm currently the only approved research geneticist and except for a colleague visiting now and then I doubt there'd be floods of us all over the place. This is a protected habitat."  
Burt's brows were drawn together in thought, but he didn't say anything. So El Blanco was a Mixmaster creation, but instead of splicing his genes and combining them with another life form, he had changed from the run-of-the-mill Graboid into something more advanced.  
Good god, he thought silently. What next?

* * *

He had chosen a solitary point. Sitting in the truck, Burt looked out over the Valley that had been his home for over twenty years now. Back then, when he had first come here, he had admired its sparse and dry beauty. The box canyon was home to many life forms, among them a handful of human beings who sought their luck away from the big cities or small-town civilization.  
Burt smiled. He had just gotten to know Heather and both had had so many common interests, such a wide base to build on, and she had been fascinated by Perfection. Building their home on the vast acres of property they had acquired, Burt had seen his dream come true. Yes, he had had to go away and fulfill the missions his country had asked him to, but he had always come back. Always to Perfection. Always to his home.  
So many people had dreamed that dream, of a home where they were in control, where they mastered the environment with what little they had. Many of those old friends had died in the first Graboid hatching. Good friends. Many more had left. None of them had returned.  
Just the Graboids.  
His wife had left him, but the Graboids had come back.  
All but one had been killed.  
El Blanco.  
Burt had thought he had had that worm figured out. He read science articles, books and reports about the worms. He knew as much about them as those doctors and professors out there; maybe even more. He knew them inside out; literally. And he had been secure in his knowledge.  
Until El Blanco.  
A single mutation of the Graboid life form had upset his whole concept of them. El Blanco had been different right from the start and he was proving to be a constant source of amazement and surprises.  
Burt hated surprises.  
Now there had been even more. Not only had El Blanco apparently chosen them as a kind of surrogate family, no, he was also a Mixmaster mutation. More intelligent, more sensitive to sound, more… attached?  
But for how long? If Burt was his alpha, how long would he remain in that position? What if El Blanco tired of the pack? What if he tried to take over? Casey had argued it was highly unlikely for an omega to usurp the position of the alpha. He would follow Burt as long as Gummer was a strong lead animal. Burt intended to stay strong.

It was close to sundown when Burt started the engine and turned the truck around, driving back to the bunker. He wasn't surprised to see Tyler sitting outside, in the waning sun, enjoying the fading warmth. His legs were stretched out in front of him, his back to one of the supports of the fence.  
"Hey," he greeted him lightly as Burt got out of the car.  
"Hey."  
The younger man got to his feet and dusted off his jeans, then followed Burt downstairs.  
"Done contemplating the world in general and your place in it in particular?" Tyler asked, smiling as Burt shot him a quizzical look.  
"I was on patrol."  
Reed's expression clearly said 'tell me another one', but his lover didn't prod any deeper. He just walked over to the taller man and wrapped his arms around Burt's waist. Leaning in closer, capturing the familiar lips, Tyler gently kissed him. Burt smelled the warmth, the sun, on his partner, combined with the faint dusting of sand and pure Tyler Reed. He held him close, fingers carding into the longish hair, enjoying the silky feeling.  
Tyler molded himself against Burt's body, pushing them against the wall, devouring the mouth in his possession, and Burt let one hand wander to the jeans-clad behind. Tyler pushed against the leg suddenly wedged between his, groaning into the open-mouthed kiss. When they finally separated, two pairs of very hungry, aroused eyes met, Burt reading nothing but want and need in the gray depths of his lover.  
The way into the bedroom seemed longer than ever. Tyler's hands were under his shirt, pushing it off, stripping him of his t-shirt and fumbling with the pants, just like Burt undressed him as swiftly and professionally. He stopped when his fingers brushed over the white bandage that still graced Tyler's forearm.  
"Doesn't hurt," Tyler whispered, capturing the questing fingers.  
Not yet, Burt thought, and he had no intention of letting the encounter go too far. Tyler was still recuperating and his energy would be fading fast. Right now though, that energy was solely focused on him and when they landed on the bed, Tyler straddling him, he let his lover go. He gave himself over to the passionate lovemaking, the magic fingers and the hot mouth that had brought him to the peak time and again before. Probing fingers slid into him, drawing a gasp out of him as his fingers clenched into the unruly hair. His climax came out as a harsh sob, the most noise he would make, and all he felt were the hands on his body, soothing and warm.  
Burt let the warmth permeate him, adrift in the wonderful sensation of heat and satisfied need. Lips mapped his shoulders and neck, and the hardness bumping against one thigh told him that Tyler still needed him.  
Rolling around, pinning the younger man to the bed, he began his own exploration, taking his cue from his much more vocal lover, as well as taking his time. Burt Gummer liked to play and Tyler was always a responsive man.  
When Tyler finally reached the point of no return, his cry of completion echoed in the bedroom. Limp, eyes almost closed, breathing hard, the younger man reacted with a soft moan to Burt cleaning him, then he sought the arms of his older lover as they lay together. Burt lazily drifted in the lingering bliss, feeling Tyler's regular breaths against his skin after a while.  
Asleep, he thought fondly.  
Carefully, as not to wake his lover, Burt slid out of bed and slipped into his pants and sweater. He walked out of the bedroom and over to his surveillance station to check on seismic activities, namely their Graboid. Satisfied that El Blanco was behaving, Burt went into the kitchen and heated up some food Nancy had given him for Tyler and him. It was chicken soup and from the smell of it, it was good.  
An hour after he had left Tyler alone his sleepy lover appeared in the main room of the bunker. He yawned and padded over to the kitchen.  
"Food?" Burt asked as he took in the sleep-rumpled appearance.  
"Sounds good. What's on the menu?"  
"Chicken soup."  
Tyler shot him an incredulous look. "You can't be serious!"  
"Totally. Nancy made it." Burt held out a bowl and Tyler took it, sniffing at the concoction. "Eat up."  
Another grimace, then Tyler went over to the battered looking couch that was the latest addition to the bunker, sat down and dug in. Burt joined him, switching on the TV.  
It came as no great surprise that Tyler dropped off forty minutes into the program again. Burt smiled and adjusted to a comfortable position with the younger man dozing at his side.

* * *

W.D. Twitchell parked his car in front of Chang's Market, the center point of the little hell hole called Perfection. His own private hell. Sometimes he wondered what had ridden him to agree to this post. The Department of the Interior, especially a man called Paul Carter, his superior, had made it sound so adventurous, exotic and easy. Just a bunch of backwater citizens, living in the protected habitat of an endangered animal. Nothing spectacular. Now and then a few tourists or scientists, and Twitchell was the one who regulated just how many could come in. He was the almighty man in control.  
Yeah, right.  
That had been before he had met Burt Gummer and the rest of the town. The annoying survivalist had been his earliest thorn in the side, then came the others who weren't meek little lambs either. He should have known. Anyone stupid enough to live out here and not move when they had the chance, for instance into one of the little ranchette homes or the city life of Bixby, was more than a match for a single government official. Combined, they gave him headaches.  
With Tyler Reed, the group had just gotten another nuisance for him to try and control. The operating word was 'try'. He had yet to make a threat they really took seriously or found a way not to circumvent.  
Now there was a new monster in this quaint little box canyon right out of Hell, and he hoped that Gummer would just solve that problem. It was giving him gray hair.  
Walking into the store, he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe sweat off his face. It was too hot out here. Way too hot.  
Jodi was busy at the counter and she only briefly looked up as he entered. "You come to pay your bills?" she asked in ways of a greeting.  
Greedy little… he thought.  
"Yeah, yeah," Twitchell muttered. "Where're Gummer and Reed?"  
"Tyler's just finished a tour and I think Burt's over at the garage."  
"Good. Anything about that monster?"  
"Haven't you heard? It's dead. El Blanco crushed it, but it got Tyler first." Jodi looked a bit worried now. "Dr. Matthews had an antivenom and it helped him and El Blanco."  
"Wow, wow, wow, slow down. El Blanco? Tyler?"  
Jodi shook her head and handed him a cup of coffee. "Wait till Burt and Tyler get here, They'll explain." She held out her hand, palm up, and Twitchell took the cue. He paid her for the coffee and the open bill.  
He took the mug and walked over to the window, peering over to the garage. A group of tourists was just coming over, talking excitedly with each other, and Twitchell decided to get out of the store before the souvenir hunters entered. Tyler was at his truck, talking to Gummer, and the two men were coming over, too.  
"Hey, Twitch," Tyler greeted him, smiling.  
"Tyler. Burt." He nodded at the two men, getting a wordless nod in return from Burt. "Give me some good news?"  
"Well, we got the second one," Tyler said. "Dr. Matthews says it was the female. The first one was the male."  
"A pair?"  
"Possibly a breeding pair," Burt added darkly.  
"Wonderful!"  
"Casey thinks the female gave birth to some young ones," Tyler continued. "She examined her and she recently had off-spring."  
Twitchell felt less and less like the good news were so good at all. "And where are they?"  
"Hard to tell," Burt told him. "There are hundreds of places. We can't follow any traces back to her nest, so for now, we have no idea."  
Better and better.  
"Maybe they die without their mother," he muttered.  
"Depends on their age," was the none-too-positive reply.  
"Great." Twitchell finished his coffee.  
Behind them, the tourists were coming out of the store, some waving at Tyler, others snapping a few last minute photos. They apparently all belonged to a tour group because there was a van parked around the other side of the building where everyone was now getting in.  
Tyler waved back, smiling brightly, while Burt just was his usual, stoic self.  
"So now what?" Twitchell asked.  
"Wait till we see one?" Tyler suggested, smiling brightly.  
"Not one of your better plans."  
"Don't have another one."  
They went into the store and Twitchell followed. "I still need that report!"  
Burt sighed deeply. "Paper-pusher," he growled, loud enough for the other man to hear it.  
"And I don't need your attitude!"  
"Then why do you always come back?"  
Tyler pushed him toward the coffee shop part of the store. "Burt, chill."  
"What about Dr. Matthews' report?" Twitchell continued. "She gave it to you and I want it. I need to present something to the Department or…"  
"Or your ass is in a sling," Tyler joked.  
"Not funny, Tyler. Now, where is it?"  
"In my truck," Gummer sighed. "Will you leave us alone when you have it?"  
"I'll think about it."  
Burt rolled his eyes and walked out of the store again. As he passed Tyler, the younger man gave him a little pat on the shoulder.

Burt grumbled to himself as he walked across the street to where he had parked his truck, right next to the tour jeep. He grabbed the folder Casey had given them – her official report – and was just about to walk back when the seismo watch started to beep. He froze as the first tremors began and then he heard the trademark call of El Blanco as he made his daily pass through town.  
"Back to your old self, hm?" he murmured under his breath.  
The ground shook more and the giant worm approached town. On the porch of Chang's Market, Tyler stood just as frozen, eyes on him, with Twitchell at his side. The agent looked pissed off, which had Burt smile.  
Suddenly the tremors stopped and the ground broke open next to where he stood. Burt felt his heart miss a beat as the tentacle slithered toward him, over his booted right foot, and then curled briefly around his ankle. A wuffling sound could be heard from underground, sounding almost puzzled.  
"Burt!" Tyler yelled.  
Burt raised one hand to arrest his lover's approach and Tyler stopped on the second step. The tongue was removed and another snort could be heard. The next tentacle appeared and this time it wrapped itself around his lower right arm with the precision of a sharpshooter. Burt did the only thing – his left hand stroked over the firm, very warm muscle.  
El Blanco released him immediately and rumbled, sounding as happy as a worm could sound.  
And Burt started to walk toward the store. He could see Twitchell, staring at him open-mouthed, looking almost comical, and he was making odd noises. El Blanco moved, the tremors coming from right under his feet and next to him the ground moved in gentle waves. The moment Burt was only a few steps away from the store, the Graboid veered off, gathered speed, and then left Perfection.  
Burt held the report out to the stunned federal agent, who was still trying to find the words again.  
"Here it is. Now I want my coffee." He passed the shell-shocked man, smiling at Tyler, who was close to laughing.  
They entered the store, where Jodi gave him a look that was a mix between amusement and incredible relief.  
"You okay?" she asked quietly.  
"Yes," he nodded.  
Inside, he felt shaky, like in shock. What he had done, walking over to the store while the Graboid was right next to him, had been risky. He had taken a huge chance on Casey's theory – and it had paid.  
"What did he do out there?"  
"I think he said hello or thank you," Tyler mused. "I mean, we did save his life and Burt's his alpha."  
The latter got him a sharp look from his lover.  
"What the fuck just happened out there?"  
Twitchell exploded into the store, tie askew, eyes wild, sweat pouring off his face.  
"That worm… you…!" His finger stabbed at Gummer. "You!"  
Burt leaned against the counter and raised an eyebrow, looking completely nonchalant.  
"What was that out there?!" Twitchell demanded.  
"What was what?"  
"You! That worm! He didn't eat you!"  
"Nope," Burt said almost flippantly, enjoying the game.  
Tyler joined him, shooting him a look that clearly said not to overdo it.  
"Would you mind explaining, Gummer?"  
"No." Burt studied the mail he had received.  
"Burt…" Tyler warned.  
"I'm responsible for this Valley, Gummer, which means you lot, too. That out there… wasn't normal!"  
"If you say so."  
"Listen, Gummer. I can remove you all from that Valley because of that little show out there!"  
"No, you can't," Burt uttered softly, voice level.  
Twitchell opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut again. "What did you say?"  
"You can't. We're permanent residents here, Twitchell."  
"Good one, Gummer. In your dreams maybe."  
"No, very real. Call your superiors if you want to, but you can't make us leave. None of us."  
Tyler was staring at him now, as was Jodi.  
"Burt?" she queried.  
He looked at Tyler. Later, he said silently. Not now. I'll explain later.  
His lover nodded, reading his expression correctly.  
"As for what happened out there," he continued, eyes on the other man in front of him, "that is something Dr. Matthews might be better suited to explain."  
"Burt's head of the Graboid Surrogate Family, Twitch," Tyler piped up, grinning widely.  
"The what?"  
"El Blanco adopted us," Jodi supplied. "He thinks Burt's the boss and we're untouchable. Well, that's Nancy, Rosalita and the three of us. Everyone else's still Graboid food."  
Twitchell gaped. "That's a joke, right?"  
"Nope," Reed said, clearly enjoying this.  
"But… it's a Graboid! They eat people."  
"They do," Burt agreed.  
"But he makes an exception for the five of us," Jodi elaborated. "You really should talk to Casey, Twitch. She can give you all the facts. Not that anyone would believe it anyway, and El Blanco can change his habits in a flash."  
Twitchell shook his head. "You're mad," he muttered.  
"Yes, apparently." Burt turned his back on the man, ending the conversation.  
"C'mon, Twitch," Tyler said calmingly. "I thought you'd find it good news that none of us here in town are in any danger of getting eaten by El Blanco. Makes your job easier."  
"You think about your job and leave mine to me," Twitchell snapped and turned on his heels, leaving the store. A minute later the car pulled out.  
"He's pissed," Jodi remarked.  
"No more than usual," Tyler added, grinning, then he turned to Burt. "Now, what was that about him not being able to kick us out? Permanent residents?"  
"Yeah, Burt, what gives?" Jodi demanded.  
"I made a deal."  
"With whom?"  
"George."  
Tyler was silent for a second, then his eyes widened. "Bush? The President?"  
"Affirmative."  
"When?"  
"After Coronado."  
Tyler was gaping now. "What kind of deal?"  
"We stay here, no matter what. No one can force us out. Ever."  
"Oh my god," Jodi whispered, eyes wide, face showing nothing but shocked surprise. "You got that from the President?"  
"Affirmative."  
"Damn Burt!" Tyler exclaimed, then grabbed the taller man and kissed him right there in the store.  
Jodi just gave a cry of delight. "We've gotta tell Nancy and Rosalita! God, Burt, that's incredible."  
He smiled. "It is."  
"Why didn't you tell us?"  
"I forgot."  
Tyler gave him a long-suffering look. "Burt."  
"I did!" he insisted.  
Especially after Coronado. He had tried to forget everything.  
Tyler looked at him, gray eyes filled with emotions. "Getting old?" he teased, but there was the knowledge in his eyes as to why Burt had forgotten.  
Gummer glowered at him.  
"Hey, Burt? Now that Twitchell knows…" Jodi shrugged. "What now?"  
"Nothing. He won't do anything about it."  
"Why? George?"  
"No, but who's going to believe him?" Burt asked with a mild smile and left the store.  
Tyler just shrugged. "Probably no one," he said to himself.  
As if Twitchell would tell anyone about Burt Gummer and a tame Graboid. It would be ludicrous.

* * *

A month passed by and nothing had changed in the routine of Perfection. Jodi was contemplating using the back room as a small museum. She was coaxing Burt into helping her set up the history of Perfection and Tyler had gently elbowed his lover into assisting her. Nancy had agreed to making figures of each monster seen in the Valley.  
It was after that month that Twitchell made an appearance again and Jodi nearly dropped her plate.  
"Twitchell?" she exclaimed.  
The man who had to be W.D. Twitchell gave her a smile. "Jodi."  
He looked… relaxed. No tie, a light shirt, and a beige colored suit that still said business but wasn't so uptight any more.  
"What happened to you?" she stuttered.  
"I had an epiphany," Twitchell replied lightly and took a can out of the fridge, then paid her for it.  
Jodi blinked. "About what?"  
"You lot, the Valley, me. Where's Burt?"  
"Uh, he's patrolling. Tyler's over at the garage."  
Jodi was still staring as the apparition that was Twitchell left.

W.D. Twitchell stood on the front porch of the store and let his eyes wander over the dusty main road. Perfection was truly a quaint little place, even if it was five miles past nowhere, in the middle of a Graboid habitat and had the most obnoxious, annoying and irritating bunch of townspeople he had ever met.  
In the last weeks, Twitchell had come to accept that something profound had changed in his life and he could either adapt to it or fight the changes every step of the way.  
A lot of soul searching later he had decided to accept – and to accept his posting here. For years he had bowed to the Department and fought Perfection. It would find an end now. He was in charge of this place, a job that no one else wanted because of all the freakish and weird occurrences all the time, and the people here were his allies. Burt Gummer was a competent man who protected not just himself but everyone in that Valley and who knew all there was about its various creatures. The man just rubbed him the wrong way, but that was in the past.  
The new Twitchell would just adapt to the situation and make the best of it. He was the only federal agent out here, he knew his stuff, and he was in charge. His superior had given him full reign over Perfection Valley, controlling who came and how many entered the Valley.  
He was more or less his own boss.  
He smiled slightly and emptied the can, chugging it into the waste.  
Now the Graboid presented one less problem. If it was true that El Blanco had adopted the people of Perfection then they at least were safe from the monster.  
The sound of Burt's truck had Twitchell turn to the camouflage-colored vehicle. Gummer grimaced as he got out.  
"What do you want, Twitchell?" he asked, eyes raking over the new appearance of the federal agent.  
"Just checking on my favorite town."  
Burt shot him a suspicious look. "Ah."  
"And to tell you that the Department claims the dead thing."  
"I wasn't planning to use it as a rug," Burt replied briskly.  
"Good. How's the worm."  
Eyebrows rose and the taller man crossed his arms. "El Blanco's just fine, thank you for asking." Burt's tone of voice spoke of rising suspicion.  
"Good to hear. Well, I'll be on my way then. Stopping by Dr. Matthews place." Twitchell smiled, walking past Gummer to his car. "Till next time."  
Burt didn't say anything, just watched him as he pulled out. Twitchell simply smiled to himself, feeling good – and not in a bad way.

* * *

Tyler sauntered over to where Burt was watching Twitchell's car disappear in a cloud of dust down the road to the lab.  
"Something wrong?" he asked.  
"He was… nice."  
"Good day."  
"And he was actually dressed for the desert."  
"Took him only how long? Two years? More?"  
Burt shot him an annoyed look. "And he asked about how El Blanco was."  
Tyler shrugged. "So Twitchell had a good day, was relaxed, at ease, and probably paid Jodi her money." He patted Burt's shoulder. "Write it down to a nice day in Perfection."  
Burt frowned and Tyler sighed.  
"C'mon, Burt, don't go thinking about deeper motives for Twitchell's behavior. Be glad the guy's taking it easy for once, okay?"  
He started to walk into the store and Burt followed him after a moment's hesitation. His hand briefly rested at the small of Tyler's back as they entered and Reed smiled at the fleeting, intimate contact. Then Burt went over to check his mail while Tyler decided to try one of Jodi's Graboid cookies and watch some TV at the bar.  
A normal day in Perfection.


End file.
